Of Fated Encounters
by Pleiadess
Summary: Melinda had been eight when she first saw Noah walking down Prescott Str. She had been fourteen when the Angel of Destiny informed her she was chosen to be his guardian. His salvation, his killer. AU- Melinda centric
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer; Do people still use this? Anyway, I don't own Charmed or any of the characters from the show. Only Noah. Also the lullaby Melinda's singing is Pete Seeger's 'Water is Wide'.**

 **A/N; Hey, everybody! This is my first story on this site for this fandom and it's kind of AU, but not really. Just to make some things clear; this story is Melinda centred with an OMC, but the rest of the family will of course make an appearance. Some chapters will be based on episodes from the show, some won't and I won't use the cannon names for the kids (or the cannon genders). There will be many flashbacks and I think quite a lot of jumping around in different time lines/realities, but it won't get too complicated. I don't know how regular the updates will be, but I don't plan on abandoning this story.**

 **Okay, so now that all that is out of the way, you may read the prologue!**

* * *

The buzzing in her ears was all Melinda could hear; after half an hour of absolute havoc the silence, which had fallen upon the room, was deafening. She ran a hand through her hair, her long fingers getting mingled in the terrible blond knots caused by all the blood. Her skin broke in goosebumps as she fleetingly thought how much of it belonged to her and how much didn't.

"I'm dying."

His voice floated up to her, breathy and barely above a whisper. The way his chest was heaving, the whizzing sound that came with every intake, were all indicators that he'd pierced his lung. A thin layer of sweat was covering his face and his lips were bloodied. Melinda cradled his head closer to her lap, running her palm soothingly across his forehead.

"It doesn't matter," she said softly, bending her head forward so to be closer to him. "I'm the only one who can make it permanent," she reminded him.

Something close to a smile played on his lips and Melinda felt a kick in her stomach; she hadn't seen a real smile from him in so long. Her eyes flickered from his face to the blue, swirling lights on the wall opposite her. When they returned to him, he was staring intently up at her. His black rimmed glasses made his pupils look twice as big and Melinda found herself drowning in a sea of molten caramel.

"Maybe you should." It was spoken so quietly that she could pretend she hadn't heard him, but her hard swallow gave her up. "You know it's the only way," he went on and Melinda tore her gaze away, focusing on the ceiling instead. "You know I won't stop coming after you, it's the only way you can go back home."

Melinda bit on her lip, as his words played in a loop in her head. He was right and she was very aware of that. She'd spent a year trying to reason with him, jumping from time line to time line, from parallel universes to alternate realities, running, running, _running; s_ o to keep him occupied and everyone else safe. And she failed, again and again, leaving a growing number of bodies behind her. And with each new trip she could feel him slipping farther and farther away from her, no matter how hard she tried to reach him.

Killing him seemed like the only sound solution.

"I don't even know where that is anymore," she mumbled, the pads of her fingers faltering before running over his lips.

"You'll figure it out."

This was the first time he'd asked her to kill him. They'd thrown the word back and forth so many times, but this was the first time he said 'kill me' instead of 'I'll kill you'. And it was unnerving, it threw her out of balance the way he gave away all his power like that, the way he gave her an out. But this was not the out she'd been looking for.

"We could just... stop," she suggested. He immediately shook his head, opening his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it; "Go back and find a way to co-exist without being us."

"You know the rules," he said and despite the fatigue, which was obvious in his voice, there was also an edge. "You're either with me, in every sense of those words, or I'll keep killing people until you're the only one left."

The truthiness of his statement made the breath catch in her throat. He was not bluffing, he was not trying to scare her, he was just giving her the facts. Melinda's hand was cupping the left side of his face and for a second she marvelled at her inability to hate him, despite all he'd done. She marvelled at how little she was afraid of him and how much she was scared for him.

But if there was one fault to be attributed to the Halliwell witches it was that they loved with every bit of their heart and soul. And they didn't know how to stop.

"You should kill me," he said, this time more seriously although his sentence was cut in fragments due to his intense coughing. His lips shinned with fresh blood and spit, but he still managed to look at her with the intensity of a thousand burning suns.

"If I asked you the same, would you do it?"

"If it was what you wanted, then yes," he said resolutely and Melinda's eyes fell shut. "Anything for you, even that." Melinda let a trembling breath, her eyes burning behind their closed eyelids.

"Noah," she whispered, her head rolling on the side against the wall. This conversation was getting too much for her, reminding her how weak she really was. His fingers wrapped lightly around the hand resting on his chest, his skin clammy against her own.

"It's getting harder to breathe," he admitted. His face contorted in pain as he tried to climb higher on her lap and Melinda was quick to assist him.

They ended up in a jumbled mess of limbs and clothes and heartbeats. Noah was practically laying on top of her now, his head nestled between her chin and collarbone. His crisp white button-down was the complete antithesis of her black t-shirt, both articles of clothing stained with copious amounts of blood. His long legs were stretched before him, his left knee bend in an awkward angle.

"You close your eyes," she coaxed, pressing a kiss against his dark curls. Noah let a small gasp.

"S-such a lo-long time," he mumbled, it was getting harder for him to speak, "Since y-y-you kissed me last." The end of his sentence was hissed through his teeth. Melinda buried her face in his hair, swallowing down a sob. One of his eyes cracked open, the rich amber of his iris dulled into a muddy brown. "I'll find you," he vowed and it was both a promise and a threat.

Melinda only sniffed, nodding. When he closed his eyes this time, she knew he wasn't going to open them again. Every breath sounded more laboured and his hold around her right hand was getting slacker. She allowed a couple of tears to trickle down her cheeks and started humming under her breath, reciting from memory the lullaby her father used to calm her on restless nights.

" _The water is wide, I cannot cross over_ _  
_ _And neither have I wings to fly_ _  
_ _Give me a boat that can carry two_ _  
_ _And both shall row, my love and I..."_

His chest had stopped moving, but his skin was still warm where she touched him. Unconsciously Melinda wrapped her arms tighter around him, holding him impossibly close. His scent filled her lungs; that mix of peppermint and lavender that seemed to follow him around, ever since she'd met him all those years ago. And then just like that, her arms fell by her sides, empty.

He was gone.

Melinda took a second to recall herself. And then another one. _He is not dead, he is_ _ **not**_ _dead,_ she reminded herself, nodding her head along in confirmation. She drew in a deep breath and pushed against the floor to get up. Her muscles loudly protested, especially the ones on her back, but she settled her jaw, swallowing down the pain. Both emotional and physical.

She didn't have much time, it usually took him less than half a day to regain his bearings and start after her again. She needed to act fast. A quick spell took care of the mess in the living room, where the finishing act of the battle had taken place. Melinda's stomach lurched when she knelt next to Luke's lifeless body.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her fingers brushing his glazed eyes shut. No matter how much she tried, she never seemed able to save him.

Standing up Melinda bit the inside of her cheek; feeling guilty was not going to help with anything. At least this time, Lucas had been the only casualty. It was the one she'd come to expect, heartless as that may sound. Melinda peered at the portal, wondering where it would take her this time. Hesitating for only a second, she jumped in. She was starting to get so tired of running.


	2. Of first glances

**A/N;** **I don't own Charmed or any of the characters from the show. Only Noah.**

* * *

Melinda had been eight when she first saw Noah walking down Prescott Street.

 _At that age Melinda had a head full of bouncy, golden curls, framing a face with round cheek bones and a prominent chin. A pair of bushy, but fine haired eyebrows rested over a pair of almond shaped jade green eyes. Standing in front of the mirror Melinda would always poke at the little bump on the bridge of her nose, wishing it to just go away. At the age of thirteen she tried to magic it away, only to end up with an eggplant shaped nose._

 _It was early on a Monday evening, in the midst of October and Melinda was sitting at one of the couches in the living room, a book opened in her lap. She wasn't particularly fond of reading, her dyslexia made it quite confusing and tiring, but she enjoyed the illustrated pictures. She'd been leafing through it for a while, before throwing a sideways glance at her father, who was seated next to her, reading his newspaper._

 _"So, Dad," she started and Leo bend the top of his paper to look at her._

 _"So, Mel?" he prompted when she didn't continue. Melinda's fingers played with the corner on the top of the page._

 _"You were a doctor, weren't you? Before..." she trailed off, not certain how to finish her sentence. Leo folded his newspaper, lying it down on the couch and focusing all his attention to his eight year old._

 _"I was, yes. Why are you asking?"_

 _Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Melinda dropped her gaze to her lap. The book was still lying there, but every time she tried to read one of the words, the letters jumped and blurred and changed places. The girl let a small frustrated sigh, snapping the book shut._

 _"Melinda, what's wrong?" her father asked, scooting closer to her. Melinda bit on her lip. "Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?" he coaxed, putting a finger underneath her chin and lifting her face._

 _"Well, it's just that, we were talking about jobs at school today and Mrs. Sargeant said that everyone has a true calling and how important is to find it and then Lowell jumped up and said his true calling in life was to be a surgeon and Mrs. Sargeant was so impressed!" Melinda's eyes opened wide for emphasis. She was a little out of breath, having said everything in less than thirty seconds._

 _"Okay," Leo said slowly, waiting for her to continue._

 _"Well I... I thought that, I... Maybe I could," Melinda had a little trouble putting her thoughts in order to make sense._

 _"Breathe, honey," Leo instructed. Melinda drew in a deep breath, holding it in for a couple of seconds and letting it out in loud whoosh._

 _"Maybe I want to be a doctor," she said, looking him square in the eye. Leo raised his eyebrows._

 _"Oh, you do?" he questioned and Melinda gave a small shrug, "That's great, sweetheart."_

 _"You think I can?" At this Leo frowned._

 _"Of course I think you can," he said earnestly and Melinda flashed him a smile, but it soon faltered. "Why are you asking me that?"_

 _"Because... My grades are not, they are not good and I can't... I can't even read," Melinda whispered in confession. She could feel the back of her eyes burning and she blinked her eyes stubbornly, wanting to keep the tears at bay._

 _Melinda despised crying. She despised it ever since she was a baby. Out of all three of his children Melinda had been the one to never wake him up at ungodly hours wailing her lungs out. Leo could practically count the times he'd seen his little girl crying in the fingers of his hands. He wrapped his arm around her thin shoulders, pulling her onto his lap and tucking her head under his chin._

 _"Listen to me," he said, taking on the tone he used on the girl's mother years ago, when she doubted herself; "You can do anything you set your mind to."_

 _"But my grades..." Melinda said miserably and Leo had to swallow a chuckle._

 _"Honey, you are still only eight years old," he said, running his fingers through her traces. "There's plenty of time to improve your grades, trust me. And I will help you, in any way that I can."_

 _"Really?" she asked, looking up at him and he smiled._

 _"Really," he reassured her._

 _"Dad! Dad!"_

 _"Dad!"_

 _The two disembodied voices travelled into the living room and were soon followed by Melinda's two older brothers, as they came running into the living room. Unlike the two boys, Melinda was not part-whitelighter and since it upset her greatly that they could orb and she couldn't, Chris and Wyatt had made a pact to refrain from orbing when they were home. Instead they'd opted running around the place, which aggravated their mother to no end, but they couldn't please everyone._

 _As if on cue their Piper's voice rung from the kitchen, where she was preparing dinner, "Chris, Wyatt what did I tell you about running in the house?" she reprimanded them and at least Wyatt had the decency to blush. Chris simply rolled his eyes._

 _"Sorry, mom," Wyatt yelled towards the kitchen, "But we are going to be late for lacrosse practice," he added, looking at his father._

 _"Yeah, and you know, if he doesn't make it to practice in time, how can he cheer for the team from the bench," Chris said with a small smirk, earning a punch on his shoulder._

 _"How doesn't that big head of yours drag you to the bottom of the pool, I'll never understand," Wyatt fired back, causing Chris to narrow his eyes._

 _"Boys," Leo warned the two of them. Chris gave another roll of his eyes, and moved his weight from one foot to the other, putting some distance between them. Wyatt fixed the strap of his duffel bag and crossed his arms over his chest._ _Leo shook his head; he really needed to find a way to dispute the rivalry between his sons or else he'd have his hands full for the next five years. And that was not a happy thought. He dropped a kiss on Melinda's forehead and then lifted her off him and back to the couch. He said, "We can continue our talk later?"_

 _"Sure," she said just as he stood up._

 _"I'm calling shotgun!" Wyatt yelled, heading for the door. But Chris' hand snatching on his duffel had him stumbling and almost falling down._

 _"You can't call shotgun" he said, looking at his big brother appalled._

 _"I just did, Chrissy," Wyatt said, wiggling his eyebrows. Chris cocked his head on the side, regarding him for a long second._

 _"I'll race you for it."The boys stared at each other for a second and then both sped for the door. Leo who was shrugging on his coat sighed. He heard Melinda's soft laugh._

 _"You're my last hope," he said to the girl, who laughed again, before following after the two boys._

 _The talk with her dad had been brief, but Melinda felt much better afterwards. She wasn't usually one to crave reassurance, being a pretty confident and independent child, but when she did her father was her go-to guy. Either him or her Aunt Paige; she always knew just what to say to make everything seem better._

 _She could hear her mother humming in the kitchen. Her mother didn't like to sing in front of people, but when she was alone cooking, she would always hum under her breath. It made Melinda all warm inside. Piper was making lasagnes, Wyatt's favourite, and it had already started smelling deliciously. Melinda was about to join her in the kitchen and pretend to help, but then something caught her eye._

 _Waking up that morning Melinda had noticed the grey clouds hanging low on the sky, she'd noticed how they looked heavy with promise for downpour. And now it was raining and Melinda loved to watch the rain as it fell down. There were no cars driving up and down Prescott Street, only the occasional yellow and orange leaves blew down the road. A lightning tore the sky apart and Melinda lifted her eyes, gazing in awe as another and then another shredded the sky in pieces. When she returned her eyes on ground, she saw him._

 _ **Him,** was a boy, barely older than her. He was quickly walking up the road, trying to cover his head and face with his arms. The coat he was wearing looked a little too big on him and so did his jeans, hanging way too low on his waist. His black hair was plastered on his skull and he kept pushing a pair of glass with rectangular lenses, higher on the bridge of his nose. He seemed to be heading towards the ending of the row of houses on the left side of the road. Melinda had never seen him before and she knew almost everyone living in Prescott Street._

 _The boy had just walked past the manor, when he abruptly halted. He swiftly turned around and his eyes landed on hers; amber on green. Startled, Melinda jumped backwards, letting go of the curtain. Embarrassment bubbled up in the pit of her stomach at being caught spying, but her curiosity was greater. So once again she pulled the curtain and peered out, half expecting to not find him there._

 _He hadn't moved an inch. He was standing by the pavement, with the rain falling unforgivingly down on him, drenching his clothes, but he didn't seem to care. Melinda's eyes took him in, cataloguing every little detail; from the bright neon-green colour of his shoelaces, to the way his nose was turning reddish, and how despite all the rain his hair refused to go down at some places. From his position on the road, he seemed to be studying her to._

 _"Melinda, honey, could you please come help mommy with something?" her mother's voice requested sweetly, but Melinda knew her well enough, to know it was no request. She didn't have much of a choice on the matter._

 _"Um, sure," she said back, without actually making any attempt of moving away from the window. She didn't know why, but she had the impulse to go out and talk to this boy. Which could end up being very dangerous, considering her last name and how talking to strangers was never safe when you were a Halliwell._

 _"Some time in the next century would be great." Her mother's sarcasm was almost as bad as Chris'. Melinda let a small sigh; she really didn't want to walk away from that window. She also didn't want to test her mother's patience. So with one last look and the corners of her lips almost curling, she let the curtain fall._

 _"I'm coming!" she yelled, heading towards the kitchen._

 _Melinda had been eight when she first saw Noah walking down Prescott Street._


	3. Of guilty conscience

**A/N;** **I don't own Charmed or any of the characters from the show. Only Noah.**

* * *

Stumbling out of the portal Melinda threw her hands forward, bracing herself against the old couch before tumbling on the floor. The portal behind her trembled for a second and then vanished. Gripping the back of the couch tightly, Melinda bent her head forward and took a shuddering breath. Her whole body was in pain, her legs barely able to keep her up straight and the wound on her thigh had started bleeding again.

Melinda bit on her tongue to keep from screaming as she pushed against the furniture and relied solely on her feet to support her weight. _Focus,_ she ordered herself, swallowing down the pain. Her exhaustion would soon catch up with her and she knew she was in need of healing, but she had to secure her location. She was at the manor in the attic, she could tell that much, but she had no idea _when_ or _where_ exactly. Looking around the room Melinda located the tripod that housed the family's grimoire; _so it's definitely after they received their powers,_ she thought and a small, grateful sigh escaped her lips.

Through the fog clouding her brain, Melinda tried to concentrate on her surroundings. She drew a breath, holding it in; no other sound than the one of her heartbeat reached her ears. She was alone. The light coming through the windows was dim but warm, though not enough to heat the chilly air in the attic and if she had to guess, Melinda would say it was late in the evening, maybe in spring.

With feet that could hardly make more than three steps, without using something else for support, Melinda limped towards the door of the attic. She had to lean against the case to catch her breath, wincing painfully at the pain surging through her body. Stilling herself for a long second, she pressed her left hand over the gush on her thigh. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out; the abused skin was tender and upon contact it felt like someone had set it aflame.

 _C'mon, you can do this,_ she pep talked herself bringing her bloodied fingers on the wood of the doorway. Her finger only slightly quivered while she drew the pentagram, adding her rising sign on the left side of the high point and his on the right.

"Sanguis, spiritus, magicae, nos protegat."

Her voice came out hoarse, it sounded wrong in her ears. The sigil shone bright white, glowing for a couple of seconds before going out; now the marking was carved on the wood of the door. Melinda wasn't looking forward to explaining that one; no matter the time line or the universe, her family was never quite taken with the blood wards.

Shutting her eyes Melinda thought of the second floor. When she reopened them she was standing close to the staircase. She wobbled on her feet and she quickly moved towards the wall to her right, supporting herself against it. She surveyed the hallway with a careful eye; her parent's bedroom door was ajar, the other two closed shut. It would be prudent to draw the mark on all of them, but Melinda doubted she had enough in her to make them all. No, one should suffice.

Melinda performed the ritual again, marking the wall behind her. This time, when the sigil shone, yellow instead of white, she felt her head swimming. Her eyesight went black, her skin breaking out in cold sweat. For a fearful moment she thought she was about to faint, but then the world around her reappeared. Melinda's whole body was shaking; the ward was feeding off her power and normally it wouldn't be enough to knock her out, but she'd lost a lot of blood and she was so tired.

 _One more,_ she told herself and closing her eyes she made her way on the main floor. Leaning heavily against the entrance, Melinda drew the sigil one last time. Her breaths became more laboured as she imagined a huge protective dome spreading over the manor, buzzing with magic. She heard the crackle of energy and she looked towards the conservatory, where a small blue cloud had started taking the shape of a canopy. She repeated the incantation, the sigil shone blue and the last thing she saw was the blue dome expanding towards the roof. Then the darkness claimed her.

* * *

"Boy, do you look like you've been hit by a track," the light teasing broke through her unconsciousness.

"Do I ever?" Melinda mumbled and again, her voice sounded wrong in her ears. She blinked a couple of times, adjusting her eyes to the lighting of the room before popping on her elbows. "My bedroom?" she asked surprised, they usually ended up in some exotic island sipping virgin bloody Marys. She had to admit, this was a nice change.

"I got anxious and I..I wasn't in the mood for the Bahamas," the girl explained, tapping her fingers against the desk.

"Okay... So what happened?" Melinda questioned.

"I don't know, you tell me," the teenager said, crossing her arms over her chest. Melinda left a small grunt, falling back against the bed. "I've been waiting here for you for hours," the girl went on, hopping off the desk she was perched on. "Last time we talked you said you were about to leave and then boom!" she clapped her hands and Melinda winced at the loud sound, "You disappeared for a whole day, scarring the whitelights out of me!" the teen exclaimed, stopping in front of the bed.

"I'm sorry," Melinda said, turning on her side, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," the girl shrugged it off. "What happened?" she asked again and Melinda sighed.

"Noah found me," she said and she noticed the girl's face paling. "He...We ehm... We had a fight at his family's house. He..Luke..didn't make it," she stumbled over her words, feeling her head pounding, like someone was trying to burst through her skull.

"Mel, you should come back. I know it's risky, but we'll find a way! We'll stop him, we-"

"He asked me to kill him, Hales," Melinda blurted out, cutting off the girl's blubbering.

Haley looked at her doubtfully, unwilling to accept the words that had just come out of Melinda's mouth. But when the older woman didn't take them back, her arms fell limp by her sides, her mouth creating a silent 'oh'. And then her eyes hardened, as she looked at Melinda's laying form.

"And did you?"

"Of course not!" Melinda snapped. Haley groaned running both her hands through her dark brown hair.

"Why not, Mel?" she demanded, looking angrily down at her. "Why didn't you end this?"

But they both knew the answer to that, so Melinda remained silent. Haley muttered something through her teeth before turning around and staring at the wall hard enough to open a hole. Melinda sat up, grabbing the pillow and holding it against her chest. She couldn't blame Haley for being upset with her, not after everything the two had been through in the last year and she didn't actually expect her to understand. In all honesty she hoped her cousin would never understand why she couldn't put an end in that living nightmare.

"Where are you?" Haley asked, still not facing her.

"At the manor; I just managed to ensure the wards before I faded," Melinda said, playing with a lose thread of the case of her pillow.

"When?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "But they've definitely received their powers."

"Well, at least that's better than the last time," Haley said dryly and Melinda nodded in agreement.

"Yeah... Mom and the aunts without their powers," she shook her head a little, her gaze falling on the pillow "Not very helpful. Quite the opposite, to be honest," she said, pressing a hand against her forehead. "They were so quick to trust me, Hales, they...they had no regard for their personal safety. It was so easy for Noah to-"

"You need to figure out the time line," Haley raised her voice, speaking over her. Melinda was stunned into silence; she wasn't used at Haley being this rude. "You need to figure out when in the time line you are, if you are in our universe at all and then-"

"Find out who Noah is going to go after," it was Melinda's turn to cut her off, "Yeah, I know, I've been through the drill."

"And yet, you never learn," Haley whispered loudly, raising her gaze towards the ceiling. Once again Melinda found herself startled by the younger girl's words.

She let go off the pillow and sliding her feet off the edge of the bed she stood up. It felt good to walk without trembling or wishing to pass out. In three long strides Melinda had covered the ground between them, but Haley was still not turning around to look at her. Laying both her hands on the teen's shoulders Melinda dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"What's going on, Hales?" she asked, giving her shoulders a small squeeze. Haley took a deep breath, trying to gain control over her emotions, but like it usually happened, she failed.

"What do you think?!" she yelled, whirling around to face her. "I'm worried about you, Melinda! We all are!" she shouted, taking a step away from her. Her face was contorted into a mask of anger and despair and Melinda felt the guilt, familiar as ever, bubbling hotly in her stomach; she was responsible for this.

"I'm sorry, I know this is not fair to you," she said quietly, but it was obviously the wrong thing to say. Haley scoffed loudly, throwing her hands in the air; one of the bookshelves on the wall next to her window exploded into oblivion.

"Not fair to me? How about not fair to the rest of them? Wyatt is still beating up himself over you vanishing into thin air. He thinks he should've somehow known what you were going to do," Haley said, her hands now curled into fists and resting by her sides. "Chris is looking all over for you; he spends almost all his free time at the Underworld. Aunt Piper never leaves her bedroom anymore, let alone the manor, so it's up to Uncle Leo to keep the family together."

They had never discussed about the others. It was an unspoken rule between them never to bring up the family and they both respected it, until now; Haley had reached her breaking point, Melinda could tell. She felt the tears streaming down her face, but she made no move to wipe them away. She deserved this, she knew she did.

"Mom has stopped going to Magic School and the Elders are threatening to shut it down. She doesn't care. Aunt Phoebe is the only one who's still trying to protect the innocents, when she's not Up There with dad, trying to get an answer out of the Elders for your whereabouts. Of course _they_ have no idea where you are... No, only I do. And I can't tell anyone and I have to keep lying!" the last word was followed by one of the windows getting blown off its hinges.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," was all Melinda could say. Haley was panting, her cheeks red from all the yelling. She ran a hand through her hair, and looked at her, before moving forward and wrapping her arms around Melinda's waist.

"I know," she whispered against the fabric of Melinda's t-shirt. She wasn't tall enough to reach her shoulder, so she hid her face on the crook of Melinda's neck.

"I just I can't kill him. I can't do it, Hales, I can't, I can't," she whispered brokenly, burying her nose into Haley's silky strands of hair. Haley's arms tightened around Melinda's waist.

"I know that too." They stayed like that for a while, before Haley gently pulled her at arm's length, "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that," she said, biting on the inside of her cheek.

"I'm actually surprised it took you so long," Melinda said, "You're not very good at holding your tongue, you know."

"Excuse you!" Haley exclaimed affronted and despite the tears in her eyes Melinda chuckled.

"I'm right."

"Yeah, you are..." Haley gave in. "Still I could've been a bit more, tactful," she said, jumping on the balls of her feet as her eyes awkwardly ran over the mess she'd made in the room.

"Not gonna argue with that."

"You need a game plan," Haley said, suddenly back to business and Melinda nodded.

"I know. I intend on going through this one without casualties," her voice was firm and Melinda almost believed her own words. Haley raised her eyebrows enough to disappear behind her bangs.

"Not even Luke?"

"Not if I can help it," Melinda responded and heard her cousin whistling.

"Okay, I'll try to help, if I can," Haley said. "And not yell at you anymore," she added as an afterthought with a small bob of her head. The corners of Melinda's lips twisted upwards.

"I'd appreciate that."

"I think someone is trying to wake you up," Haley said frowning, a hand coming up to massage her crown. Instantly Melinda felt a tag at the centre of her chest.

"I think you are right," she agreed and Haley's bright hazel eyes snapped to hers.

"Are you ready?" she questioned. Melinda shook her head.

"I never am." The tagging at her chest had become more prominent and Melinda could now hear a voice; it sounded distorted, like it was coming from underwater, but with every second that ticked by it grew stronger.

"Okay, that's reassuring," Haley quipped sarcastically and then, "Be careful."

"I will," Melinda promised.

"I love you."

But before Melinda could say it back the room was gone. She prepared herself the best she could, as she felt someone shaking her softly. The voice, clear now and oh so familiar, was coming from somewhere above her head and it was coaxing her to open her eyes. Melinda took one last deep breath and she did.

"Easy does it," the voice instructed, brushing the hair out of her face and helping her up. Melinda gave him a sleepy smile.

"Thanks dad," she said without really thinking. Her words were followed by several gasps, varying in emotions.

"Dad?" both her aunt Phoebe and Paige questioned, one surprised the other delighted. Leo was sitting next to her, his eyes wide as they searched her face for any sign that she was lying. Piper was standing between her sisters, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. Melinda was about to say something to her, when another voice attracted her attention to the other side of the room.

"Leo, what the hell is that supposed to mean?" a very annoyed Prue Halliwell inquired, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"Oh," Melinda exclaimed, dragging the vowel. "This is new."

* * *

 **A/N; the end, I'm not a fan of. I think it's kinda awkward, but I honestly had no idea when to end this chapter, so... yeah.. I hope you liked it more than I did.**

 **The latin incantation reads ; "Blood, spirit, magic, protect us". It's pretty basic, but I didn't want to overcomplicate it.**


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